


Happy Hour

by ACertainZest



Category: Castle
Genre: Bar, F/M, Handcuffs, TFLN prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 10:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACertainZest/pseuds/ACertainZest
Summary: In the wee hours of the morning, Castle texts Beckett with an unusual request. A piece of improbable mid-Season-3 silliness, based on two TFLN posts.





	Happy Hour

**Author's Note:**

> This piece of ridiculousness was prompted by a combination of two textsfromlastnight posts: "I just woke up handcuffed to the bar and shirtless, so yeah I think I need you to come get me" and "I think one makeout session at a bar per year is probably the best choice." ;) I hope you enjoy it.

Beckett stared at the text message on her phone's screen for a long moment. Her eyes flickered to the time display at the top of the screen - 5:03 A.M. - and then back down to the words.

She put the phone down on the mattress next to her and rubbed her forehead, pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbed her still-sleep-crusted eyes, sighed. Then she picked up the phone and read the text yet again.

_I just woke up handcuffed to the bar and shirtless, so yeah I think I need you to come get me._

"Castle," she sighed aloud, shaking her head. She didn't want to know. She _really_ didn't want to know. But okay, her partner was asking for help, and of course she was going to help him. She just needed a minute. And a very large cup of coffee.

She didn't have to ask which bar. Ever since Castle had bought the Old Haunt a few weeks ago, it was the only bar they had gone to - her team, and most of the rest of the 12th Precinct - for those end-of-shift beers and friendly conversation before heading off to their separate lives. So, half an hour after receiving the text, she walked into the Old Haunt and found Castle just where and how he had described: he was slumped on a stool, bare-chested and unshaven, his left wrist cuffed to the railing that ran the length of the bar. He appeared to be asleep.

"Castle?"

His head jerked up. "Beckett! Oh, good. I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Yeah, well, here I am." She walked closer, trying to keep her eyes on the handcuffs, not on the scruff that decorated his cheeks and chin, and definitely not on his - oh god - half-naked body. She had never seen her partner shirtless before, and damn, she hadn't really realized until now how much she wanted to.

Even just looking at his cuffed wrist was difficult. The little golden hairs dusting his arm, the interplay of muscles when he shifted, the flexing of his thick, strong fingers... She gulped. Somewhere deep down, she knew that denying her attraction to Castle was a losing battle. She still wasn't ready to admit it, but it was getting more and more difficult with every passing day.

"Sorry to pull you away from Josh," he muttered, apparently taking her silence for annoyance.

"Oh, no, I - we broke up," she replied unthinkingly, and immediately regretted having said it. Something flared in Castle's eyes as he took in the words and lifted his gaze to meet hers - something hot and hungry, something she might not be ready to see.

"It's no big deal," she added, forestalling whatever else Castle might have said. "Where's your shirt?"

"Don't know," he shrugged. "I tried to look for it, but-" and he shook his arm, jingling the handcuffs to make his point.

"Mm," Beckett acknowledged sourly, glancing around. The room was dark and quiet, most of the lights off, tables wiped clean, glasses neatly stacked in rows behind the bar. "So Brian cleaned up and just left you here?"

"I told him to." Castle tilted his head, considering his own words. "Guess I wasn't thinking too clearly." He nodded to a pitcher and glass sitting on the bar in front of him. "At least he left me some water. The guy knows his hangovers."

"Uh-huh." She reached over and took hold of the cuffs, turning them to get a better look. "Castle, these are police-issue."

"Yeah," he agreed, his ears turning a little pink. "Esposito's."

Beckett's eyebrows shot up. "Espo?" she repeated. "Seriously? And yet you texted _me_ to come get you, not him."

"You were the first person who came to mind," Castle admitted defensively. "After I texted you, I did try calling Espo, but he's not answering. Ryan either."

Beckett suddenly realized that reaching across Castle's body to grab the cuffs had brought her into close proximity with him. With his broad, bare, well-toned chest, to be exact. Her shoulder brushed his and she had to suppress a shiver.

She let go of the cuffs and tried to take a step back, but Castle's free hand closed around her elbow and held her there. His touch was scorching, even through the material of her blouse, spreading heat through her veins and all the way down to her toes.

"Castle," she snapped warningly, a flutter of delicious apprehension in her belly making her tone sharp, but he wasn't fazed.

"Aren't you going to ask why I took my shirt off, Beckett?" he asked, his voice low and raspy, sending tingles across her skin.

She tried to answer, but her throat was dry and no sound came out. She swallowed with difficulty and licked her lips - two unwise movements. Castle's attention was immediately drawn to her mouth, and he took in a quick breath, his chest heaving in her peripheral vision.

"I," she tried, her own breathing suddenly coming faster as well, her head spinning from the heat radiating off Castle's body. "Um, I, I would assume it had something to do with alcohol," she managed to get out.

He snorted. "You could say that." But then a slight flush colored his cheeks, his eyes sliding away as he admitted, "Actually, I spilled tequila on it. Kind of a lot. Not the good stuff, fortunately."

"Oh." Beckett could hardly think, with Castle's body so close and his hand still on her elbow. She wasn't sure he even realized that he was still hanging on to her. "So you, um, you were doing tequila shots with Esposito?"

"I think he cuffed me here just so I wouldn't slide off the stool," he said ruefully. "It's all kind of a blur."

"Castle-"

"Isn't this how you've always wanted me, Beckett?" he rumbled, the deep buzz of his voice creating vibrations that spread straight down from her ears to the pit of her stomach, striking sparks of need the whole way. "Tied up and at your mercy? Our very first case, you couldn't wait to slap the cuffs on me."

She took a slow, careful breath, willing her expression to remain neutral, trying to push away the memories that the words brought flooding back. Yes, it was true: cuffing Castle to her car during that first case had sent a small but definite thrill through her. Later that night, after they had caught the killer and she had declined Castle's invitation to dinner, she had slipped into a hot bath and indulged in a very satisfying fantasy about cuffing Richard Castle to her bed and having her way with him.

Of course, that was when she had thought she would never see him again. The intensity of the embarrassment that had hit her the next day when he walked back into the precinct - back into her life - still made her cringe to think about, even now, two years later.

"No, Castle," she denied, striving to muster the customary bite of sarcasm in her tone. "I can't say that finding you handcuffed to a bar at five A.M. has been high on my list of things to do."

"Liar," he chuckled, smirking, but there was heat smoldering behind the twinkle in his eyes, and his hand slipped down from her elbow, coming to rest instead on her waist. She gasped - couldn't hold it back - the touch was so intimate, so much more daring than they usually were with each other. They usually kept to the careful dance, rarely touching at all.

Now, just by putting his hand on her arm and then her waist, he had opened a door to something all new. Her gut twisted as she realized that she was already craving more. More of his touch, more of that husky voice slithering down her synapses, turning her to liquid. There was no hope for her. She was done for.

She never should have told him that she'd broken up with Josh. That relationship - lackluster though it had been from the beginning - had provided a much-needed buffer, insulating her brittle heart from any uncomfortable emotions where Castle was concerned. Here, now, with Castle's hand on her body, she was suddenly very much aware of just how much that shield had been holding at bay.

"Beckett," he whispered, and his fingers dug into her side, urging her closer. Her knees were wobbly, her head spinning. She couldn't bring herself to pull away. She swayed in toward him, letting him reel her in. His arm slid around her waist, and he looked up at her from his perch on the stool, and she looked down at him, and suddenly they were kissing.

She moaned deeply, heat rushing across her skin. Castle's lips were soft and warm on hers, his tongue already tracing the outline of her lips, and they parted for him before she knew what she was doing.

Almost instinctively, her hands came up to fall onto his chest, but she had momentarily forgotten he was shirtless; the contact of her palms on his bare skin made them both gasp. Castle's arm tightened around her back, pulling her even closer, and her hands slid up to his shoulders and she felt him shudder at the touch. He groaned into her mouth, still kissing her, fervently, as if he wanted to drink her in.

At the touch of his tongue against hers, the last hint of her self-control vanished and she melted into him, sliding her arms around his neck as he held her against him with his one free arm. The rough stubble on his chin scratched her skin tantalizingly, and the heat of his bare chest scorched through her clothing as she pressed her body to his, whimpering. His mouth was devastating her and she knew she would never be able to get enough of this.

But the bang of the door closing and a pair of loud gasps reverberated through the empty room, startling them both. Beckett jerked back from Castle and twisted around to find Ryan and Esposito standing in the doorway, staring. Both men's jaws looked ready to hit the floor, and she felt her face turning bright red with embarrassment as she realized what they had seen.

"Uh, hey, guys," Castle greeted, breaking the silence. Beckett winced at the hoarse rasp to his voice, the kiss-swollen shape of his lips. Oh god, this was bad. This was really bad.

"Beckett?" Ryan squeaked disbelievingly.

"Um." She tried to pull out of Castle's embrace, but his arm only tightened around her, until she leveled her sternest glare at him. He flinched and withdrew his arm, pouting.

She swiveled and directed the glare at the boys. They both flinched also, frozen in the doorway.

"Javier Esposito," she barked, and the junior detective stepped forward as if jerked on a string.

"Right. Sorry. Sorry," he mumbled, moving awkwardly past her, the key in his hand.

The cuffs fell away and Castle sighed with relief, rubbing at his wrist while the rest of them fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Um, here," Esposito added, producing a t-shirt from his coat pocket as he put the handcuffs away.

"Thanks," Castle said, shrugging it on quickly. It was too tight - must be one of Espo's, with a football team logo - and Beckett had to avert her eyes from the way the material hugged Castle's biceps. Her whole body was flushed unbearably hot from the combination of arousal and embarrassment.

"No problem, bro," Espo said uncomfortably.

"Um," Beckett began, having no idea what she would say next; fortunately she didn't have to figure it out, because just then three cell phones began to ring simultaneously.

"Oh, hey, that's so cool," Castle grinned as the three detectives all reached into their pockets and took out their phones. "How have I never managed to be around for that before?"

"Castle, shut up," Beckett sighed, rolling her eyes, before pressing the Talk button on her phone. "Beckett."

"Yeah, okay," Esposito was saying into his phone, and Ryan was uh-huh-ing repeatedly.

"Yes, sir," Beckett said, and a moment later they all hung up.

"Lemme guess," Castle said, standing up and rubbing his hands together eagerly. "We've got a murder."

" _We've_ got a murder," Beckett corrected sternly. Even with her lips still tingling from Castle's kiss, her skin still prickling with the urge to feel his touch again, she was back in cop mode and impervious. "You're going home to take a shower and a nap."

"Aw, but I'll miss the crime scene," he whined, but Beckett quelled him with a narrow-eyed glare.

"We'll take pictures," Ryan promised as they all started toward the door. "Oh, and uh ... it was really dark here in the bar just now, you know?"

"Dark?" Castle repeated, surprised.

"Yeah," Ryan nodded. "Uh, so dark that we, uh, we really couldn't see anything. At all. Right, Javi?"

"Oh. Right," his partner agreed quickly, nodding. "Yeah. Couldn't see a thing. Too dark."

"Right."

"Good to know, guys," Beckett said, keeping her tone cool and unaffected, although inside she was breathing a sigh of relief and gratitude. "Now let's get to work."

* * *

Much later, after they had solved an uninteresting murder and completed the voluminous paperwork, Beckett found herself being pushed out of the precinct - almost literally - by her captain.

"Get outta here, Detective. That's an order. And take him with you," Montgomery added, indicating Castle with a tilt of his head. "He's getting on my nerves."

"I said I was sorry about the bouncy ball," Castle protested. The captain merely sighed.

"Go."

The elevator doors closed, and Beckett suddenly felt a rush of apprehension at being alone with her partner for the first time since that morning.

She had been able to put it all out of her mind for the day, while working on the case; Castle had stayed away for most of the morning, presumably cleaning himself up and recovering from his sleepover at the bar, but he had reappeared around lunchtime and behaved entirely normally. He had joked around, offered ridiculous theories about the case, made her numerous cups of coffee, and overall acted like it was just another day on the job. The boys had quickly tired of shooting little curious looks from Beckett to Castle and back, when they realized that nothing seemed to have changed.

But of course, everything had changed. And now it was time to decide what she was going to do about it.

She could, of course, follow Castle's lead and continue to pretend it hadn't happened. That was their usual M.O., wasn't it?

But she found, somewhat to her surprise, as she stood there in the small elevator cabin with Castle, that she wasn't scared any more. She wasn't nervous any more. She knew what she wanted, and why shouldn't she have it? The embers of the connection between them had flared to life that morning, burning away all of her uncertainties in a flash.

"Well," said Castle as the elevator began to descend, "we closed the case, and Ryan and Esposito are probably already having a celebratory beer at my expense."

Beckett snorted, nodding. "I'm sure they are."

"So," he went on, just a hint of hesitation in his tone, "shall we join them?"

"Mm..." She dragged it out, making him wait for it, although she already knew her answer. "I don't think so, Castle. I'm just gonna go home."

"Home?" he repeated, disappointed. "But what about my cunning plan to get you drunk and take advantage of you?"

Ah. So that was how he wanted to play it, then. A slow smirk spread along the edges of her mouth. "I think one makeout session at a bar per year is probably the best choice, Castle."

She saw his jaw drop in her peripheral vision, just as the elevator doors opened. Biting back her grin, she stepped out and strode confidently across the lobby.

She was halfway down the outside stairs when Castle recovered his aplomb and caught up with her. "Okay, Beckett, you got me," he said, falling into step in his usual place at her elbow. "So, while I wait with admirable patience for the year to pass by, where else would you like to make out?"

A startled laugh burst forth, and she pressed her fingers to her lips, teetering between mirth and mortification. " _Castle._ "

Their path had just taken them past the mouth of a small alleyway, and abruptly Castle seized her arm, pulling her off the sidewalk and into the dim shadows of the alley.

"How about right here?" he murmured, low and smoky, pressing her against the chilly brick wall of the building. The slow hot flood of want gathered in her gut and spread through her veins, making her bold. She slid her hands into Castle's hair and pulled his mouth down onto hers.

His hands were on her hips - both of them this time, no cuffs holding him back - and he held her against the wall with his body, pressing himself against her, as she pushed her tongue into his mouth and nipped at his lips. A groan vibrated his chest against hers, and a new surge of heat prickled her skin.

But she pushed him away then, saying, "No."

"Beckett, oh god," he panted, staring at her in confusion: his eyes a little wild, hair mussed, lips shiny. He looked so sexy that her breath caught in her throat, her knees going weak. She had to pause and inhale carefully to get herself back under control.

"I told you, I'm going home," she husked, giving him just the barest moment to drop his gaze in disappointment before she added, "I don't need to go to a bar to get you drunk and take advantage of you."

His head jerked up, eyes snapping to hers, hope blooming. "What?"

She smirked again, slow and seductive. Turned on her heel and strode out of the alleyway, her shoes rapping authoritatively on the concrete.

She paused at the entrance, looking back over her shoulder. "You comin' or what, Castle?"


End file.
